


Scenting

by DaniPopplers



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Lemon, My First Smut, Smut, Vegebul, i hope you like it though, i've been holding onto it for a year or so..., this is almost embarrassing yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 04:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14969558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniPopplers/pseuds/DaniPopplers
Summary: Bulma changing her scent palate causes an unexpected reaction in her Saiyan guest. Set in the 3 year gap.





	Scenting

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first ever lemon. It's nerve wracking to publish it, but there's only so much tweaking I can do, and after holding it close for over a year, it needs to spread its wings and leave the nest of my hard drive. I sincerely hope you enjoy it, and please review!! I love to hear people's thoughts!

Bulma stretched out luxuriously in the bed, noting the empty left side. She ran a hand indulgently over his side of the bed, smiling to herself at the warmth she could still feel radiating off the sheets. Vegeta didn’t like to be in the room when she awoke. Bulma knew it was because he didn’t want her to catch him in what he considered a compromising position. 

She knew this because she had found that she always woke before him, cocooned in his arms, his nose skimming her hairline, softly inhaling in his sleep. By now, she knew that if she stayed quiet and still, she could enjoy up to a half hour of his sleeping form pressed against her, breathing her in. The emotion behind his sleeping affection was so sincere it bordered on reverent. In deep slumber, his hard body unspooled its tension, making him remarkably comfortable. Then he would wake, and slide his arm out from under her with practiced ease and pad silently out the door. Once, she thought she caught the glimpse of a scowling blush through her eyelashes as he made his escape.

Bulma took her time making it to the bathroom, not eager to start her day. She had a mound of work to get done in the lab and she was significantly behind on several projects, all thanks to Vegeta. He had taken to a nasty, and sometimes delightful, habit of swooping in on her at random and unexpected times, to demand attention of some sort. When he first arrived at Capsule Corp, he preferred to bother her over dinner or hunt down her father. After a few weeks, he started tracking her down as well. Then he stopped going to her father entirely, around the time they began…whatever she was deciding to call this relationship. Whether it was a malfunction in the gravity room, a mix up with the kitchen bots, or more recently, the overwhelming desire to fuck her, he usually demanded a few hours of attention every time he barged in. 

While she certainly didn’t mind- the last part anyways- Vegeta had recently upped his interruptions from twice a week to twice a day. Her entire nights had gone to him shortly after as well, and he had moved into her room permanently not long after. He hadn’t spoken with her about it first. He just stopped leaving, as was customary, after they had finished with each other. The first night he stayed, he’d rolled over on his side in a huff, showing her his back, and Bulma had been genuinely mystified as to what he was doing. His usual flick of the sheet and naked ass strolling casually out her bedroom door was noticeably absent. 

“You’re staying tonight?” Bulma asked lightly. She knew not to put too much weight behind the statement. 

“Do you have a problem with that, woman?” he’d grumbled, but his voice lacked his usual bite. He just seemed tired, and relaxed, so she’d simply hummed her approval and slipped off to sleep. She had woken to find him holding her close and inhaling her scent. And she’d woken that way every morning since. 

The bathroom that she now shared with Vegeta was obviously designed by her own hand. Everything was smooth and soft, light and calming. The room’s intention was relaxation more than functionality and it showed. Bulma turned the knob on the massive rainfall shower and hummed lightly to herself as the room steamed up. Her mirrors didn’t fog- her own design- but the air still quickly grew heavy with the steam. 

With a flick of her wrist, Bulma disrobed and stepped onto the river stone floor of the shower, under the scalding sheet of water. A sigh escaped her lips as the water drenched her, blushing her skin in protest of the temperature. She allowed herself a moment to just stand under the steaming spray and enjoy it before getting to the work of her shower. 

Bulma Briefs had a routine for her shower. Unsurprising, given her justified pride in her appearance. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and she took that role very seriously. It all begins with the shampoo, followed by conditioner, and then a deep conditioner- all to keep her gorgeous blue hair softly pristine. Then she shaves, washes and exfoliates, followed by body moisturizer. Then comes the face routine of cleanser, exfoliator, and moisturizer. After exiting the shower, she does a lip scrub and eyebrow check, as well as more lotion, all before beginning on makeup and hair for the day. 

This routine helped Bulma feel like her best self, it helped give her the confidence she needed and settled her mind for the work day. Geniuses need mind focusing rituals, that’s very well known. Lucky for Bulma, it happened to be this. She reached for the shampoo, ready to begin battle, and grasped at air. 

She’d completely forgotten. She had run out of her favorite shampoo yesterday morning. She had jotted it down on the mental checklist she kept in her head, and went about her day, which included 2 interruptions for very different reasons from Vegeta. She’d completely forgotten about it. Now her day was ruined, and she’d never get any work done. Her mind wouldn’t be able to settle into work and she wouldn’t have the willpower to kick Vegeta out of her office. He’d inevitably interrupted her before she could actually make progress on her backlogged projects. 

She huffed and shut off the water, the gears of her mind turning, the giant mental plan she had shifting a few things around. She could give herself today off, couldn’t she? Yes, she was severely behind, but this way she could finish her routine properly and have a nice day off, maybe get out for lunch or catch a matinee? West City was always bursting with activity, she just had to pick the perfect task. But only after she procured her shampoo.  
\--------  
Even Bulma admitted that she had over done it when she returned to Capsule Corp, weighed down by heavy bags from the boutique body wash store. Her attendant had been a lovely effeminate man who insisted that her scent palate was all wrong for the changing season. 

“It’s spring now, my dear. Please don’t tell me you used that sunny coconut aura all winter?” he’d exclaimed in mock shock, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. He’d recommended a soothing lavender for the current March climate, floral and fresh like the new blooms her mother had started tending again. Bulma was positively taken with the idea of scents to match her changing seasons of outfits, and had promptly bought an entire suite of products in the new line. Bulma Briefs didn’t do anything half ass. 

Now that she was home though, she was starting to wonder if it was a bit much. Sure she didn’t need the body scrub and the body exfoliate. But just how luxurious would it feel if she used both- divine she was sure. With that idea in her mind, Bulma flounced to the bathroom, prepared to perform her routine in its entirety with the added bonus of new products. 

When Bulma emerged from her bedroom, it was almost noon. She had spent a full three hours pampering herself, and the extra effort was evident in the finished look. Her hair was extra soft and bouncy, curling softly at the split-less ends. Her skin was so silken that she kept reaching out to rub her arm in bliss. And her makeup appeared effortless since she’d had such a nice, clean, scrubbed canvas to work with. All in all, she felt glorious- inside and out. 

She turned to make her way down the hall, and bumped into something solid and warm. Her heart fluttered as strong hands gripped her arms, and heat began to pool in her belly as the hands pulled her closer. Vegeta was making his first visit of the day, and clearly he’d noticed her absence. She let her eyes drift close as she felt his nose press into her neck, prepared to lose herself in the sensation…

That’s when he let her go, hands jerking back as though he’d been burned and took a quick step away from her. Bulma heard a plaintive noise come from her throat, but Vegeta just crossed his arms and glared at her. She tried to push away the flushed feeling he’d ignited and placed her hands on her hips, flipping her luscious hair over her shoulder as she did so. 

“What?” she demanded, noting his flinch at her hair flip. Instead of answering, he simply growled menacingly, turned on his heel, and stalked off.  
\------  
The first thought that occurred to Vegeta when he smelled Bulma was that something must be wrong with the woman. Her usual warm scent was gone, replaced by a floral monstrosity that made him want to sneeze. She must be sick, or had rolled in a meadow somewhere. But the scent was too artificial, and he could detect the lack of pollen as well. She didn’t smell like Bulma at all. 

He was almost willing to ignore it, because she certainly felt like Bulma when he dug in fingers into her velvet skin and molded her body against his. But a nose full of the infernal smell was too much for him. She had reacted as he would’ve expected the woman to act when he abruptly stopped his attentions. Whiny, then affronted. She most certainly was Bulma then. So why did she smell different? 

When she flicked her hair at him, an obvious mating indication to notice her new scent, his fury had skyrocketed to almost palpable levels. So she had mated with another, had she? She had come out displaying the other’s scent proudly. She reeked of it. 

He thought he had made it clear with his co-habitation with her, that she was not to take another. He even found excuses to check on her during the day, and to reassert his claim over her. That way no Earthling man would ever think her available. Her normal scent was now always mingled with his own, something no ape-descended male should be able to ignore. Now he couldn’t even detect her own scent in the mix, it was so overpowered by the new marker. 

Vegeta flew the short distance to the gravity chamber, lacking the patience necessary for walking. He needed to rip something apart with his bare hands. The gravity room shuddered as he slammed the door shut behind him, fingers twitching as he fought back the urge to send a ki blast through the wall. He had done that just last month, and not only had it taken a full four days to fix, the woman had complained the entire time. 

Thinking of Bulma made Vegeta snarl and he punched the button to run the simulation a tad harder than necessary. He could feel his blood pressure lower as he shot down each bot in the first wave with ease. He could sense his thoughts clearing as he dispatched the second wave with some well-placed kicks. But he didn’t feel completely in control again until his ripped the last bot apart with his hands, allowing his fingers to dig into the steel satisfactorily before shredding it to bits. 

If she had mated with another male, which she so obviously had, then he would simply reclaim her as his own, and make her regret her error. Infidelity was common among Saiyan women, as they were far fewer of them than Saiyan men, but Vegeta was the Prince of All Saiyans. His woman wouldn’t have been allowed those indiscretions on Vegetasei, and he would not tolerate them here. 

He would pry the name of her soon to be dead lover from her parted lips as he mated with her, and then he would go and kill him. His life was forfeit the minute he had presumed to touch her. With a deliciously evil smile, Vegeta went back to training, content in the knowledge that he had the situation under control.  
\------  
Vegeta didn’t interrupt her the rest of the day, to Bulma’s surprise. He had been such a tease earlier, rubbing himself against her and then bailing like that! She couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve, but she had to admit she was kind of impressed with his self-control. She was at her softest, most luscious self, if she did say so herself. This new beauty regime made her feel like a million zeni. 

When she sat down to dinner, he was still conspicuously absent, and she could hear muffled explosions echoing from the GR. Vegeta sometimes missed dinner in his fervor, but she figured he’d at least be winding down. She didn’t give it much more thought as the kitchen bot placed her meal in front of her. 

Bulma spent the evening answering emails in the living room, and noted the time the explosions stopped rattling the windows. With a sly smile, she resolved to wait at least a half hour before heading to bed. Vegeta would need time to shower before bed, and she knew he was still uncomfortable with that level of intimacy with her. It was an easy thing to give him some privacy. 

After the allotted time, Bulma turned off the lights downstairs and made her way to her –their- room, aware of how girlish her excitement felt to see him. She had actually missed his daily check-ins. 

She softly pushed open the door and padded into the room. Oddly enough, it was still pitch dark, and the tell-tale light from under the bathroom door was missing. The only light was the thin stream of moonlight spilling in from the part in her black out curtains. With a groping hand, Bulma reached for the light switch. 

Hot fingers clasped her arm firmly, holding them in place. She felt a powerful arm snake around her middle and hoist her back into his strong frame. Bulma felt her stomach swoop in surprise and anticipation.

“Vegeta! You scared me!” she exclaimed breathlessly, but her body language made it obvious that she was anything but scared. She pressed her hips back into his, and bit her lip at his obvious reaction to her closeness. She dropped her head back onto his shoulder as the fingers gripping her wrist began to trail up her arm. The fingers vanished and reappeared on her chin, gripping it and tilting her head away from his. She could feel his nose skim the line between her shoulder and ear and she shuddered under the sensation. 

“Woman…” he husked, and she moaned as hand around her waist began to inch lower. The heat began to pool between her legs and she fidgeted under his rough, tracing fingers. 

“Mhmm…?” 

“Do you have something to tell me?” 

Bulma’s eyes snapped open in confusion, but he chose that precise moment to delve under her waist band. Roving fingers slid their way between her lips, sending sparks of lightening up her spine that made her eyes shut again in ecstasy. The friction made stars explode behind her eyelids. With a growl, his fingers spread her a bit more before a single digit pressed its way inside. He sunk in to the knuckle, nipping at her ear lobe as he did so. 

“Nothing to say?” he said imperiously, and she felt her knees buckle as he slid another finger inside of her, filling her to the brim. They curled forward, dragging a gasp from her as he brushed his thumb up against her clit. 

“Well?” Vegeta pressured again and she could feel herself approaching her peak. He pumped his fingers in and out of her with slick noises and she reached her arm back to grip his hair tightly. When her legs collapsed from his ministrations, instead of holding her up, he let her stumble, deftly removing his hand from her pants. Bulma whimpered at the loss of his attentions, but the haze of pleasure cleared enough for her to respond to him finally.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered innocently, slipping into a role play version of herself for a moment. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d dabbled with the sexual dark side. To her delight, his arms scooped her up in the dark and dumped her on the bed, crossing his arms as he loomed over her. The moonlight illuminated a sliver of his hard body, and she could see that he was still dressed from training, in nothing but those tight spandex shorts. His erection was shadowed to perfection by the soft glow and her fingers itched to reach out and stroke it. When she extended a tentative hand, he grabbed her wrist in the same firm grip. His smirk at her eagerness was predatory, sharp canines gleaming. 

“There’s no use lying to me, woman,” Vegeta purred as he crawled onto the bed, and up her body, shredding her new spring clothing in his wake. Every few inches, he paused to bury his face into her skin and inhale deeply. He growled every exhale, and upon reaching her breast, he nipped her harder than normal, canines digging into her soft flesh. Bulma hissed at the sensation, but he didn’t break the skin and the pain soon bled into pleasure. 

As he pulled himself the last of the way up, his teeth skimmed her sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps tracked over her naked flesh. His knee wedged her thighs apart, and Bulma keened at the way he ground himself down over her when he settled between them. His eyes burned with an irritation that bordered on real anger, and after a moment, she remembered he’d just accused her of lying to him. 

“What would I be lying about?” Bulma asked, as his mouth settled on her neck, and his teeth scraped her skin at her question. She let her hands slide down his sculpted back to his shorts, tugging at the waist band experimentally.  
“Don’t make me drag it out of you, woman,” Vegeta breathed into her neck, grinding his hips down over hers in a deliciously painful way. His skin felt hot and harsh against her freshly scrubbed skin.

“I can smell the evidence all over you.” 

Before waiting for a reply, his mouth descended on hers, searing her to her core. Her mouth parted under his pressure, and his tongue swept in to claim her, to taste her. Bulma always loved the way his mouth slanted over hers, kissing her as though he was trying to suck the very air from her lungs. It always left her breathless and this was no exception. When he pulled back, she saw the glint of satisfaction in his eyes at her heaving chest. 

Then his eyes disappeared as he began to kiss back down her body, his hot mouth leaving a wet trail that turned to ice as he departed. He paused to swirl his tongue around each nipple in turn before delving downwards. With practiced precision, his tongue carefully split her down the middle, dragging over her sensitive nub, and sending a jolt of white hot desire through her. His hands held her hips down as she bucked against his mouth and he lapped at her core with fervent purpose. 

Bulma felt herself chasing the high she’d been at earlier, digging her nails into his scalp as she urged him on. She could feel herself climbing towards her climax and she groaned at the effort. Just as she was about to tip over the precipice into orgasm, he pulled back with deliberate, aching, slowness. 

“You still taste the same. I suppose I should be grateful you at least didn’t ruin that.” 

Bulma felt confusion spike through her, and more than a little anger as well. That was twice now he had left her right at the brink. Did he not like her new scent palate? He kept talking about smell and taste… Was this what this was about? She tried to readjust, pushing his head away, and he retreated enough to allow it, eyes narrowed at her. 

“Are you mad I changed my shampoo?” 

Vegeta scoffed and she could see his cheeks redden in the low light from the window. 

“Please tell me that isn’t the pet name for the imbecile I have to murder after this.” 

Bulma shot up out of her lounging position on the bed in alarm. 

“Who said anything about murdering anyone?” 

“Tch. You didn’t seriously think I’d let him live afterwards, did you?” Vegeta sneered, but Bulma wasn’t paying attention to anything but the movements of his tongue. She hissed in frustration. Normally, she was a very patient person. But she didn’t handle the repeated teasing without release very well, something that he evidently knew by the knowing glint in his eye at her obvious frustration. His hand trailed down to the apex of her thighs and he once again pressed his fingers inside of her, thumb rubbing tantalizing circles around her clit. The waves of pleasure returned in full force, knocking her back into the sheets. 

“Just give me a name, and I’ll let you cum,” he said matter-of-factly, increasing the speed of his movements, and Bulma gasped. She was so close, she’d been so close for so long. Dear Kami, she would tell him what he wanted if she just knew what he wanted. Anything to end this delicious torture.

“Please…Vegeta,” she moaned as his tongue replaced his thumb, laving at her core. He added a third finger, stretching her farther, and she cried out his name again and again as she finally climaxed, her walls contracting around the added digit in a violent release. She burst over his fingers and mouth, and he continued to lazily lap up her juices until she stopped shuddering.  
\------  
While she had given him a name, it unfortunately wasn’t the right name. It filled him with an animalistic appreciation to hear her scream his name, and he felt rightly pleased with the remarking endeavor. Her scent was beginning to resemble something familiar as his musk intermingled with hers. It wasn’t complete though. Vegeta had to reclaim her before killing the interloper- he needed to be drenched in her scent as he ripped his spine out through his throat. He wanted to watch the stranger’s recognition of failure as the light left his eyes. 

Leaning back onto his heels, he pulled his heavy cock from his shorts, and stroked it experimentally. Bulma’s eyes widened from her slumped position on the bed, and blush from her orgasm only just beginning to recede. His glare pinned her to the spot, and she felt her toes curl in anticipation. 

“Do you want to be honest with me now, Bulma?” he rasped, and her real name on his lips both aroused and confused her more. He only used it in the most intimate and serious moments. She would’ve melted into a puddle if confusion hadn’t been clouding her high. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she repeated, whispered and reverent. His eyes narrowed and he released himself. Placing a hand on either side of her form, he stalked his way back up her body with his mouth, dragging his erection along her body, leaving a sticky hot trail of where he’d been. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and inhaled again deeply, skimming his nose along her shoulder. It was so reminiscent of their mornings together that Bulma couldn’t help but sigh in contentment. 

Without warning, he butted himself up against her core, demanding entrance. Bulma shifted her knees open further, and taking that as assent, he pushed himself in to the hilt. She gasped as her body stretched to accommodate his girth.  
“You seem like you’re telling the truth,” Vegeta said, his voice running over her body like gravel on velvet. It was the most sensual thing about him, and in moments like this, filled to the brim and surrounded by nothing but him, it was almost too much to take. 

“But Saiyan senses don’t lie, woman.” In one smooth movement, he pulled himself almost entirely out, and then slammed himself back down into her. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply again, and continued in a low growl, “You smell different.” 

It clicked for Bulma in that moment what the issue was. All the pieces fell into place like a machine in her mind as she put it together. He hadn’t been with her long enough for her to change out her shampoo. He might not even know that washing came scented- she’d always been careful to stock his side of the bathroom with scentless soaps, given his sensitive nose. And they hadn’t ever showered together; they hadn’t achieved that level of intimacy yet. 

“No, it’s-AH!“

Vegeta didn’t give her time to finish speaking. He began to pound into her, flesh smacking loudly, as he reclaimed her, marked her as his. How dare she presume to treat a Prince this way? He had given her unprecedented access to him, he had made her his. It was not an honor he conferred lightly. 

Responding fell to the bottom of Bulma’s priorities as she struggled to catch her breath. His rhythm was punishing and delicious and she struggled to match him, stroke for stroke. She clung to him, nails embedded like anchors as she chased her high. 

His continued assault on her did nothing to quench his desperate thirst for her, always brimming under the surface. He had spurned her all day, but that had only heightened his need, and he could feel himself begin to climb all too soon. Bulma threw back her head as she clenched around him, and lacking the will power to hold on, he let her milk him for every last drop. Now she would smell like him again, and he found that the thought curled pleasurably in his stomach. Carefully, he rolled off of her and sat on the edge of the bed. He rolled his shoulder to reset them, the indulgence of relaxation washing away as he came back to himself. 

“All I need now is a name, woman,” he remarked casually over his shoulder. “This isn’t over until I have vengeance.”  
A surprised, choking laugh escaped Bulma. She couldn’t help it. She knew she shouldn’t laugh at him, but Kami if the man wasn’t jealous of her soap. It was too hilarious. The more she considered it, the harder she laughed until she became breathless, heaving nakedly on the bed in her mirth. 

“This is not humorous woman,” Vegeta responded, an edge in his voice. His shoulders were tensing, and she tried to restrain herself, but his response was only making it worse. She rolled over and grasped his arm as she regained control of her speech, soft giggles dissipating as she ran her thumb over his skin. 

“Vegeta, I smell different because I ran out of my shampoo. The replacements I got have a different scent palate,” she explained and he looked back at her over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in disbelief. “I’m serious! The new scent is lavender, if you must know.” 

Frozen in time, Vegeta stared at her as if carved from marble, a single eye twitch giving away his anthropomorphism. Bulma could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to understand what that meant. She allowed the edges of her lips curl upward and lowered her lids as she assessed him. 

“Want me to show you?” 

His eyes narrowed in response to hers as he eyed her suspiciously. Languid and secure in the vestiges of the orgasm she’d just received, Bulma stretched and crawled out of the bed. With a gentle hand, she pulled him to standing and began walking towards the bathroom. 

“Woman,” Vegeta grumbled in warning, but she could practically feel his eyes scorching up and down her naked form. She didn’t answer, but dropped his hand when she entered the bathroom, and went to start the shower steam. The rainfall head hummed to life, and she was pleased with how quickly the room began to steam. This would be delightful. 

“What’re you doing?” Vegeta asked in trepidation. She turned on her bare heel to survey him from the showers entrance. The roles were deliciously reversed, she the predator and he the prey. The power was heady, even if she knew it was fleeting. He wouldn’t tolerate the imbalance for long, she was sure of it. But for now, she intended to enjoy it. 

“I told you I would show you…” she reminded him, and took a step forward, stalking him like he so often did to her. He remained frozen in place, eying her apprehensively despite their nakedness. “I can tell you’re curious.” 

With a wink, she spun back to the shower, and disappeared behind the glass door, opaque with steam, confident he would follow her in. Her faith was rewarded when she heard the glass door softly click shut behind her a moment later. She stretched her arms up above her head, and with practiced movement, dipped her head back under the spray of water. A moan escaped her lips as the hot tendrils ran rivulets down her scalp and between her breasts, and she turned so Vegeta could enjoy the view unobstructed. She kept her eyes heavily lidded, watching him between navy lashes. Watching he was, openly and calculating. With a smirk, she let her hands drop from her hair to her sides, and reached over for her new shampoo bottle. Tilting it back and forth teasingly, she uncapped it and held it out to him. 

“This is what I use to wash with. I got a new one today and it smells different,” she explained, and took a step forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her full length against him. She held the bottle up, squeezing it gently so the scent issued out in small puffs. He snorted, and she recapped it, grinning devilishly. “Don’t like it?” 

“It smells infernal woman,” he growled and Bulma thought she could see a bit of a pout on his full lips. “What was wrong with what you used before?” 

“It’s spring Vegeta.” He stared at her blankly, plainly expecting more of an explanation than that, but she didn’t elaborate. She didn’t bring him in here to argue. She brought him in here to…acclimate him. “I know how I can get you to like the new smell…” 

His eyes narrowed and fell to her lips. He quirked his own upward in response, sensing her intentions. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

She unwound her arms from around his neck and handed him the shampoo bottle. Clearly this wasn’t what he was expecting, and his brow furrowed with confusion and annoyance. His expression changed quickly as she dropped to her knees, kneeling before his lengthening girth. The water hit just nicely at the crown of her head and down her back, leaving her face free. Mustering up her most innocent expression, she blinked up at him. 

“Wash my hair for me?” 

Vegeta liked to feel big, powerful, and in control. And she liked to make him feel that way- to a point. He wound a large, scarred hand into her hair, tilting her head back to look up at him more fully. 

“I’m not your servant, woman,” he reminded her, but his voice held none of its earlier warning. He knew he would enjoy this as surely as she knew she would. 

“It’ll be worth it,” she promised, running her hands slowly up his legs, tracing every plane of his corded thighs, and liked her lips in anticipation. Vegeta raised a brow, and paused for a moment, releasing his hand from her hair.  
The shampoo bottle clicked as the thumbed it open. 

Bulma grasped his cock firmly at the base, and let her tongue swipe up the underside in one long, flat stroke. She hummed happily as she was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath. She lapped at his length lazily with her tongue, using her hand as leverage for all the areas she just couldn’t reach. Heat pooled between her legs. 

Vegeta dropped the shampoo bottle on the ground with a clatter, and she felt her lips quirk up as his hands reached for her hair again. With a gentleness she hadn’t been sure he possessed, she began to rub the shampoo into her cerulean tresses. She’d held back so far, but his compliance deserved a reward. 

Abruptly, she swallowed him down, unhinging her jaw and opening her throat to allow him access as far as he could go. His hands froze in soapy tangles of her hair, and she could hear his breath sputter above her. She pulled back with a loud pop to look up at him. His eyes were lidded, ink black burning her to the spot.  
“Should I stop?” 

Bulma already knew the answer to her own question. With a dark gleam in his eye and a roguish smirk, Vegeta pulled back around his cock, using his hands to continue massaging the soap into her hair as he did so. Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes from the strain, but Bulma could taste a challenge. She swirled her tongue around the head and focused on her breathing to avoid choking on his length. He moaned appreciatively, thick fingers digging deliciously into her scalp as he worked out the last of the shampoo. 

She continued to bob her head, suckling him gently as he swelled in her mouth. Then he bent suddenly, wrenching his swollen cock from her lips and hauled her up against the shower wall by her arms. She was pleased to see she’d had an effect on him- his breathing was ragged as he held in place against the wall. A well placed knee between her legs prevented her from moving, and his arms caged her in on either side. 

“I told you it’d be worth it,” she breathed. “Do you like the scent yet?”

Roughly, he jockeyed her up by her thighs and slid her down onto him. He hissed as he pressed in, and she threw her head back against the glass, groaning. “Fuck.” 

“Vulgar woman.”

He began to move, slicing in and out of her as the water sluiced down his back. The patter was white noise and their grunts and moans and cries strove to cover it. Bulma lost herself in sensation- the feel of his body, his hands gripping her, cool glass at her back. Lightning sparked behind her eyes with every thrust and she could feel herself beginning to crest again. She chased it with single minded devotion, letting him give her what she needed. They wouldn’t last long this time, she knew. Their previous encounter had left them spent and the relished these last few passionate moments together. 

“You’re mine, woman,” his moaned into her ear, sharp canines nipping at the lobe a moment later. She whimpered at the feel and he dove towards her neck, dragging sharp teeth in his wake. “You hear me? Mine.” 

“Yours, Vegeta! Yours!” she agreed, desperate for him to end this torture. His hips sputtered at her agreement, and he pushed himself in as far as he could, pressing her flat against the wall as he did so. With a roar he came, hot spurts of cum filling her, and she followed him, wringing out every last drop. 

They panted, both coming down from their high. Bulma grinned, and took advantage of the moment to lean her head on his shoulder. Carefully, he extracted himself and set her on shaky legs before turning to clean himself as well.  
“At least I know what you’ll do if I were to sleep with someone else,” she giggled, and watched as he cocked his head to her, eyes flashing dangerously. 

“I’ll rip their spine out through their throats and present it to you as a gift,” he sneered, but Bulma just laughed. 

“My jealous prince!” she cooed. Vegeta growled warningly, but she looped her arms around him and pecked his cheek anyway. “Come on, it’s late. Let’s go to bed.” 

They both dried quickly, and when she crawled into her side of the bed, her heart swelled when he mimicked her actions. He huffed as she scooted over to lay on his chest, but he brought his arms up around her anyways, feigning reluctance. She allowed her eyes to drift closed, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart under her ear. That was how Bulma awoke the next morning, cocooned in his arms, his nose skimming her hairline, softly inhaling in his sleep.


End file.
